Independence Day
by Dragon of Dispair
Summary: G1-ish AU. Post War. Optimus Prime stood on the balcony overlooking Iacon's reconstruction and watched the flashes of weapons fire in the distance. The Great War had been long, and peace - if you could call this peace - hard won. Then Starscream and his trine had escaped custody, and it had all spiraled completely out of control.


**Independence Day**

Disclaimer: Belongs to Hasbro and others who are not me. Just borrowing them for a few minutes here.

Summary: G1-ish AU. Post War. Optimus Prime stood on the balcony overlooking Iacon's reconstruction and watched the flashes of weapons fire in the distance. The Great War had been long, and peace - if you could call this peace - hard won. Then Starscream and his trine had escaped custody, and it had all spiraled completely out of control.

Notes: My answer to this prompt on the TF bunny farm (link on my profile) from katsuko:

"The Autobots win the war. In the aftermath, most of the Decepticons are captured and sentenced to deactivation by the senate; the Decepticons who escaped go into hiding. The Autobots don't approve of the senate's actions but are helpless to stop them unless they do exactly what the Decepticons did originally and revolt.

Bonus for: Decepticons hiding in plain sight due to reformatting and Optimus Prime reiterating that freedom is the right of all sentient beings, 'cons included. Extra points if an unexpected Autobot takes down a member of the senate."

It's an old prompt (2008), but it bit hard. I have no idea if even fulfills the prompt as intended, but it is the major inspiration for this. Credit where credit is due. Dunno if I get extra bonus points for unexpected senator assassination though.

Warnings: Mild to moderate, mostly off screen, violence (depending on what your tolerance for it is; I believe the term is "cannon typical"). Transformer-speak swearwords.

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Part One: Dawn's Early Light

_._

_And all who stood by and did nothing,_

_Who are they to criticize?_

_The sacrifices of others-_

_Our blood has bought their lives…_

- _Eye of the Storm_, Crüxshadows

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Optimus Prime stood on the balcony overlooking Iacon's reconstruction and watched the flashes of weapons fire in the distance. The Great War had been long, and peace - if you could call this peace - hard won. The scars, on Cybertron and its people, would be there for a long time. Possibly forever.

At first all had been as it should have been, the beginnings of a new Golden Age. With Megatron dead and many of the Decepticons captured, the Autobots had eagerly laid down their weapons and turned their efforts to rebuilding. Prowl, his trusted second in command, had been the architect, first of the government, then of everything from cities to the logistics of supplying Earth-made energon to the entirety of Cybertron, repurposing his battle computer to the logistics of peace, rather than those of war. Some of the first buildings to be laid down in the cleared ruins of Praxus had been of his design, and Optimus had seen Prowl's plans for rebuilding the ruined city, projected on a repurposed tactical computer. In a decavorn it would have been as majestic as the original. The first crystal planted in the new Crystal Garden had been placed there lovingly by his hands.

Then Starscream and his trine had escaped custody, and it had all spiraled completely out of control.

Even now, no one knew how the stasis field keeping Skywarp contained had failed, but with the teleporter free it hadn't taken the Decepticon Air Commander long to find and free the other seekers before the prisons had been outfitted with inhibitor fields to prevent the flyer's teleportation. The Decepticons had then began a guerrilla campaign, striking at energon shipments and government buildings, all for the professed purpose of destroying the tyrannical government against which the Decepticon rebellion had originally been formed. The manifestos and rants went on at length about the flaws of the current government - if there was one thing Starscream had always liked, it was hearing himself talk.

Wiser, perhaps, than the original senate had been during Megatron's rise, the government had quickly reinstated the military to counter Starscream.

Mirage, the newly elected senator from Praxus, had at first been against remilitarization. Starsream may have been the seeker in question when people rather derisively used the saying "high as a seeker in orbit and twice as crazy", but, as evidenced by his cooperation with Soundwave's surrender after Megatron's defeat, he could be reasoned with.

His proposal to open negotiations had been soundly vetoed. As a compromise, however, the new Autobot military would be, like that of their American allies, volunteer only. 'Bots who had not fully adapted to peace began signing up to fight Starscream's Neo-Decepticons. Some of those volunteers had saddened, but not surprised Optimus, who had been named the leader of the new Autobot Defense Coalition. Sideswipe had originally adapted to the War's end, returning to his career as a borderline legal merchant, but Sunstreaker had not, managing only a few paintings before joining with something akin to desperation. The red twin followed his brother, along with the former Wreckers into the new army.

Some of the volunteers, like Bluestreak, had truly surprised Optimus and his sorrow on the young gunner's behalf was immeasurable.

There had always been Decepticons who had escaped initial capture, but, as only very few of them seemed inclined to join Starscream, they had been ignored. However, not long after Springer's promotion from merely leader of the Wreckers to general under Optimus, two unknown members of the Neo-Decepticons were captured and proved to be Sunstorm and Slipstream - who had not been initially captured - reformatted to different seeker frames. Reformatting without specific senate approval became illegal and the seeker frame type was outlawed - supposedly to make apprehending them easier, but truthfully only succeeding in driving the majority of Cybertron's remaining seekers either to Starscream or into the Defense Coalition.

Mirage had vehemently resisted the laws, using every political trick in existence to defeat and delay its passing.

The blue and white Praxan senator had been filibustering, delaying a vote he'd known he would lose, when the news had come in - Praxus had once again been razed and all the mechs who'd designed, built and lived in the still small city had been killed in a brutal sneak attack by Starscream's forces. History had repeated itself.

In the end, the law had passed unanimously.

It had then been Mirage who'd suggested the execution of the remaining imprisoned Decepticons and hunting those who'd escaped to prevent them from joining Starscream. There was no resistance to either of these measures.

Not in the senate.

Protest came from the scattered remains of the Autobots, those who'd followed Optimus Prime to the Pit and back because freedom was the right of all sentient beings. Optimus himself despaired that he'd couldn't follow suit. What his Autobots were doing was treason.

Cybertron was fracturing at the seams once again, this time along a multitude of idealogical lines, rather than just into Autobots and Decepticons and there seemed little Optimus could do about it except watch.

Finally he turned away from the view of wrecked Iacon and to his unofficial second in command. The weapons-fire had long faded from the night - just a skirmish on the border of the city. He didn't know how long the black and white had been standing there waiting to be acknowledged, but he was grateful for the other mech's patience.

"Status report," to his own audios, his voice sounded rough with disuse and grief.

"Trashed Megatron's tomb," Jazz replied. "'Ported in two trines, stole Megsie's cannon, strafed the place a few times, an' 'ported out before the Wreckers could respond. No injuries t' either side."

Optimus shook his head in bewilderment. "What could Starscream want with…" he trailed off.

The other mech shrugged. "Dunno. Symbol maybe. Screamer's not specced for that much firepower, an I can' imagine him lettin' anyone else lug it around. Pr-" his vocalizer fritzed on the name. Optimus placed a comforting hand on the black and white's shoulder. Jazz refused to look Prime in the optics as he cycled air for a quarter breem before starting again. "Someone else coulda maybe come up wit' a few more guesses, but I'm at'a loss." Optimus nodded. "Anyway… they've gotta be runnin' on near empty. Their last energon raid was a decaorn ago, an' Skywarp alone has'ta've used almost all'a'it."

"We'll make sure the energon is protected," Optimus regarded his companion for a half-breem, noting the way the saboteur-turned-Autobot-commander still refused to meet his optics. "What else, my friend?"

Jazz sighed. "Finally spotted Skydive - flying wit'th' Rainmakers today as their third. Tha's four."

Optimus stilled, optics flickering off in sadness and shock. The Aerialbots had disappeared after the seeker frame type had been made illegal outside the Defense Coalition. Air Raid had been the first to reappear, flying with Starscream and Thundercracker while Skywarp played his part in keeping the Neo-Decepticons' movements and bases hidden. One by one, the others had followed suit, except, "Still no sightings of Silverbolt?"

"Naw," that was waved away, though not carelessly. It was not, necessarily good news. "Gonna have t' face it though - it's been close t' five vorns. If Screamer had Superion, he'd'a used 'im."

Prime conceded the point.

After Air Raid, the others had shown themselves quickly, and Jazz had speculated that peaceful Skydive and dedicated, responsible Silverbolt had fled both Cybertron and the gestalt bond that made it impossible to fight against their brothers for long. But if Skydive was here and Superion wasn't, it boded ill for the Aerialbots' leader. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel about that. It was good that Starscream continued to lack access to any of the gestalts, and yet Silverbolt had been his friend.

As the silence stretched into breems, Jazz shifted uncomfortably, bringing Optimus' attention back to him.

"In other news," the black and white didn't wait for an invitation to speak, and the words which couldn't have sounded cheerful, decidedly weren't. "Onslaught's finally been captured. All'a Bruticus is behind bars t'night." This could have been good news, but wasn't. There was only one way Onslaught could have evaded the senate's ISF Decepticon hunters for so long - the Underground Railroad.

A human name, taken from human history.

If Onslaught had been found, after hiding with the Railroad for so long, it was likely that at least some of his protectors had been found as well. So it was with a deep sense of dread that Optimus asked, "Who?"

Jazz didn't insult him by pretending to misunderstand the question. "'Bee an' Hound," his vocalizer staticked out in pain and betrayal. "An' they found this in th' safehouse." A datapad was produced from Jazz's subspace.

Optimus looked it over. The original text was coded and the Decepticon hunters in the ISF claimed they had been unable to crack it. Jazz's notes indicated it was one of the special ops comm codes from early in the War and he had translated the document. He read it over, then re-read it to be certain. Onslaught had not yet been reformatted, and what he held in his hands was the Underground Railroad's plans to get him to a medic outside Iacon for that reformat - and how they were going to hide such a large mech from the ISF during the travel, with the assistance of a highly ranked, but unnamed, traitor. Jazz's analysis named him. Finally he sighed out through his vents. "You're sure its Soundwave?"

The other 'bot nodded solemnly. "'Sides Hound an' me, Mirage an' Sounders're th' only 'bots still alive who still know tha' code. Can' be anyone else' an' we never did find all'a'th' cassettes." Soundwave had claimed they'd been killed, but… the little 'bots would have been perfect assistants for this sort of work.

The larger red and blue mech sighed again. "Have Ratchet detained. Quietly."

"I'll send Ironhide an' Skyfire," Jazz confirmed quietly. Ironhide going to see the medic wouldn't be gossip worthy. He and Ratchet had been friends, once, though they were now quite distant. Ironhide had chosen to remain with Prime, joining the Defense Coalition, while Ratchet had left Iacon to offer his services to the growing number of refugees awakening from stasis. There had always been rumors that he was a member of the Underground Railroad - helping Decepticons get reformatted so they could hide - but there had never been proof, until now. "Anythin' else?"

"Arrange a visit to the Cathedral," was Optimus' answer, engine growling angrily. "I need to speak to Soundwave."

.

Soundwave ran the Internal Security Force - the senate's replacement for the old regime's Enforcers. After Red Alert had left (force to leave, went some whispers - threatened, reprogrammed or worse) the ISF, Soundwave had taken command. He'd been Red Alert's second, and the only Decepticon legally free from incarceration.

When Starscream had escaped, some had blamed Soundwave for sabotaging the stasis field containing Skywarp. Prowl had personally investigated and announced that the tape deck had not been involved. It was an investigation that, after the second fall of Praxus, no one had publicly questioned.

Since then, the position of Director of the ISF had slowly morphed from impartial investigator, to the head of the senate's personal goon squad.

And now, proof that he'd been running the Underground Railroad, sabotaging efforts to find the remaining Decepticons and funneling resources to the illegal group. A lesser evil than allying with Starscream, but still…Treason, as much as Optimus hated himself for acknowledging it.

The Director's offices were deep in the senate complex. They were, as befitted the Decepticon Communications Specialist, under constant surveillance and booby-trapped to within an inch. Optimus was certain they also had more bolt holes than he could shake a whole game of pickup sticks at. His own offices were not as secured, but he had survived the same war Soundwave had and as such neither of them trusted the other mech's personal spaces. The Grand Cathedral of Primus in Iacon was neutral ground for both of them.

Grapple and Hoist had been inspired by the great cathedrals of Earth in designing the temple to Primus. Vaulted ceilings were high enough that Omega Supreme could have stood before the altar without crouching. Pews filled the space, in and around fluted pillars on either side of a central walkway leading to the raised platform and altar at the front of the building. Instead of a traditional altar, however, a hologram of Cybertron filled the space, blown up so large that to step into the Cathedral was to step into the bowels of the planet, with the planet-spark floating over the raised platform, the only light in the whole space.

Soundwave was waiting in the central walkway of the otherwise empty cathedral when Optimus arrived. He always arrived before Prime. In four vorns, the two of them had established a pattern, of sorts, for these meetings: Jazz always got there first, to sweep for surveillance devices and plant some of his own, then Soundwave arrived, removed the bugs and planted others, which Jazz would then remove and only after both Jazz and Soundwave were satisfied, would Optimus enter.

The tape deck bowed, precisely to the micron as much as one should to the Prime, but no more. Optimus didn't mind. Adrift in a sea of fluctuating opinions, ideals and factions, the Director's thinly veiled disrespect - exactly what he'd expect from the former Decepticon - had always been an anchor. Until now.

Optimus didn't bother with pleasantries, striding through the vaulted space, datapad held out for the other take. "Explain this."

Not that he truly needed an explanation, but he wanted to hear what the mech would say. He needed to hear it, before he arrested him.

The other's facial expressions were limited, possessing both a face mask and a visor, but Optimus got the distinct impression Soundwave was exasperated with the rudeness. He didn't take the datapad. Of course he knew what was on it already. Slagging telepaths. "Information: bait."

That brought Optimus up short. Bait? Battle subroutines began running, scanning the area and confirming that he and the Director were the only mechs in the building, which wasn't right… where was -

"Sorry OP," just as an inhibitor was attached to his chassis.

Jazz's sorrowful expression was the last thing he saw as he collapsed into his long-unused Earth truck alt-form and his world went dark.

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Part two: Let Freedom Ring

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Connections and conspiracies… factions and fractures...

Despite the indescribable _pain_ of Jazz's betrayal, or because of it, Optimus' thought processes were clear. In the dark cell he awoke in, he allowed his processors to work. He kept his optics off as he thought. There was nothing to see. He'd already examined it for possible weaknesses and escapes and found it very well secured: a tiny room of thick metal on three sides and a force shield closing him in on the fourth. Nothing else, not even a makeshift recharge berth. There, he teased out the connections from everything that had spiraled so completely out of control since Soundwave had surrendered the Decepticons in the wake of Megatron's death.

Jazz was the lynchpin. He always had been, for the Autobots and for this… whatever it was since the War's end.

Starscream and the other seekers to Skywarp, whose abilities the Neo-Decepticons had depended on since the stasis field keeping the purple seeker had failed. Sabotaged, he could clearly see now, and so skillfully done it might have been done by a ghost.

So, Skywarp to Jazz, then Jazz to Ratchet, Bumblebee and the other members of the Underground Railroad. From there - Soundwave, Onslaught, the other Decepticons and a code only four living 'bots knew for bait.

And the result? Superion with Starscream; Bruticus with Soundwave - that the Combaticons were imprisoned was suddenly less a consideration than the fact that two of Jazz's most skilled subordinates were also "imprisoned" within easy reach. All the others who might have stood against that firepower - Earth, elsewhere among the stars, or dead. And of course, Optimus himself captured.

The entirety of Cybertron balanced on the edge of an abyss over which it would fall into the grasp of a tyrant. Again. And this time, there was nothing Optimus could do. He'd been neatly taken out of the equation. Maybe Springer and Ironhide could do something. But for all that both were some of the best combat leaders Optimus had ever seen, neither had the kind of charisma that would have mechs flocking to their banners, and for all its apparent success against Starscream's little splinter group - success that meant nothing in light of current revelations - the Defense Coalition wasn't _enough_ to prevent what Optimus could now see coming.

He could see the how, with the clearest insight granted by hindsight, but not the _why_.

Or maybe he could. Both the Neo-Decepticons and the Underground Railroad protested the actions of the senate. Their means and methods were different, but he could see not it was the same goal. Under the same hidden leader - _Why would Jazz betray me?_ - But it felt too neat, too clean to be one of Jazz's plans. With every variable accounted for, it had fallen together, not easily, but perfectly, like one of -

His optics onlined with a flicker looking through the force shield and meeting the cool, collected_, red_ optics of….

"Figured it out, Prime?"

… "Prowl."

They'd never found enough of him to confirm deactivation. They'd only ever had Jazz's absolute certainty - certainty he'd never elaborated on the reasons for, and mechs had made assumptions about the source of- to say he was gone. Always a quiet mech, naturally prone to soundless movement and a predatory economy of movement, his systems now ran with the same stealth modifications Jazz possessed, making him less than a sensor-ghost to everything but Optimus' optics. He could have been a true ghost, but a dead mech - if nothing else - should have appeared exactly as he had before death. Instead, he'd traded the bulk of his Earth alt form for the sleeker lines of a Cybertonian hover vehicle. Black and white police markings had been repainted to a pure, matte black. And of course - ruby optics. His doorwinged design, as rare as Praxan crystals (and for the same reason), was unchanged, but few would have connected the mech before him to the former second in command of the Autobots. He was sleeker, fiercer more… _openly_ dangerous, than the mech Optimus had known.

"Why?" was all he could ask. There was the sting of betrayal, of course, but also the need to _know_.

"Do you know when this started, Prime?" And _Pit_ if Prowl's voice wasn't achingly familiar. The harmonics of a new vocalizer were different, but the calm respect he'd always had for his Prime was the same.

"Jazz released Skywarp," in effect, releasing the seekers and starting this mess.

"No," simple negation, no accusation. "Earlier, when the senate outlawed military modifications. Jazz and I released Skywarp a decaorn later."

"I thought you wanted - we _all_ wanted to go back to being civilians." That his officers, his _friends_, might not have… hurt more than waking up in a cell did. "You're destroying Cybertron - again! - to keep your _weapons_."

Prowl hitched his doorwings and shook his head. "Not all of Cybertron."

"An' it ain' about th' weapons," Jazz slipped into the room and leaned against the wall next to Prowl. "It's about who we are. Th' changes that' went down t' th' spark." Where Prowl had remained calm in his conviction, Jazz's voice practically glowed with passion, with his need for Prime to listen, to _believe_ him. "M' sensor suite an' stealth mods, Blue's targeting package, triplechanger and gestalt tech… all'a'it. Our core programming - our sparks! - declared abominations."

"When Starscream attacked Praxus, I had until the end of the decaorn to confirm with a senate appointed medic that my battle computer had been removed," Prowl added quietly. Unconsciously, Optimus drew in a surprised vent of air. Prowl had never functioned well when his battle computer had been off line due to damage. "Red Alert had already been imprisoned for outright refusing to give up his security protocols and early warning sensors."

Jazz nodded. "Blind, deaf, crippled, lobotomized… tha's th' life th' senate would'a had us lead. Tha' was our sacrifice for 'peace'."

Prowl placed a calming hand on Jazz's arm. "There are other injustices, abuses of power perpetuated by the system. But that was the one that affected us personally, and after… after we couldn't ignore the any of them any longer. We weren't going to stand for it. We couldn't - not after Earth, and not after following you."

Optimus jerked in renewed shock. Jazz grinned. "Yes, you, boss-bot."

"A careful analysis of the facts - those still available after so much time," Prowl continued, "has revealed that Megatron was the wrong leader, but the cause under which the Decepticons flocked to his banner…" the black mech stepped forward, even as Jazz stepped away and released the force shield keeping Prime imprisoned, "… it wasn't wrong. We just need the right leader this time." And he presented Optimus with Megatron's cannon, drawn from subspace.

It had been repaired, and gleamed, a new coat of glossy black paint almost sparkling against Prowl's matte. He gave it, then Jazz a disbelieving look. The black and white just shrugged. "Told y' it was a symbol. An' y' are specced for tha' sort'a firepower," was his nearly flippant remark.

"We're doing this, Prime," Prowl added, seriously. "Everything is already in place, only awaiting the final command. It will go more smoothly if you join us, and less energon shed in the aftermath if you lead, but this will happen regardless."

Slowly he took the cannon from Prowl. "Where?"

"Everyone is upstairs, in the cathedral, when you are ready," and with that, the black mech turned and left, doorwings disappearing down the corridor with the silence for which he'd been named.

Jazz turned to follow, but Optimus stopped him. "Everyone?"

With a grin and a shrug, the saboteur answered, "Everyone whose anyone." Then he followed Prowl, leaving Optimus alone with the cannon, to think.

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It was joors before Optimus felt settled enough to face what was come. He ascended the staircase to find himself coming up from the catacombs from a hidden door behind the dais over which the planet-spark floated. Instantly, he was the center of attention. He stepped into the sort of hushed silence of a group of 'bots who had been talking about him before he'd walked in the room.

'Everyone' had been right. Springer and another mech Optimus didn't know, but who had red optics like Prowl or Starscream's, lounged in a pew within spitting distance of Starscream and Silverbolt. For his part, the Decepticon seeker glared at Soundwave, who stood with Ratchet and Ironhide. And of course, Jazz and Prowl stood together to one side of the altar. A small group, just the leaders of their… what? cell organizations? factions? battle groups?… and yet everyone.

Facing them, cannon newly attached to one arm, Optimus felt self conscious. As enemies, as allies, here on Cybertron, on Earth, and among the stars, they all had been through so much. What could he say? They looked back, wary and expectant.

Except Prowl.

He stepped forward and despite the change in his appearance, instead of in the cathedral, Optimus found himself back in the war room aboard the _Ark_ in another of the countless mission briefings this mech had led through the vorns. Automatically he found himself gesturing for Prowl-his-second to continue when Prowl-here-and-now hesitated respectfully.

Everyone shifted, even as Jazz gave him a thumbs-up in approval. Until this moment, Prowl had been in charge of this movement, and now some - Starscream especially - didn't seem happy about the change over to Prime's command.

The black mech touched a control panel next to the dais, and the holographic depiction of the planet-spark-that-was-Primus shrank, the crust of Cybertron pulling inward until the map hung there, a blinking current depiction of their home planet. A tactical projection computer, hidden utterly in plain sight. Four vorns and he'd never suspected it was here, that the hologram could be used for this purpose. Jazz pulled a stack of datapads from subspace and handed them out. Optimus looked through the files. His had no orders, just a map of the senate building, and a copy of the schedule for the next orn. All eleven of them would be in the audience chamber to hear a presentation by Perceptor on his and Wheeljack's new method of processing energon.

"Ratchet?" the black tactician asked. "Is everything ready?"

The medic growled. "Yeah. Reformatted, hidden and just waiting for the signal. And your MASH units are fully trained and staffed." Optimus could have sworn the medic had added something about reformatting and toasters, but couldn't be entirely sure.

If he did though, Prowl didn't acknowledge it and simply nodded. "Send two MASH units to Iacon prison. The Combaticons and the other escaping prisoners will need them. Arrange the protest rallies here," Prowl touched the hologram of Cybertron to highlight Kaon, "here," then Tyger Pax, "and here," and finally Iacon. "The others will follow. Springer?"

The triplechanger - the only Autobot officer other than Optimus and Ironhide to join the Defense Coalition, and thus nominally in charge of not just the Wreckers, but other forces as well - sat up straiter in the pew. He turned all his attention to Prowl.

"Send Bluestreak and the other snipers out to cover the senate building and have the twins stand by for escort duty." Springer nodded. "Take the Wreckers to secure the space bridge. The Protectobots have already secured it Earth side, but Earth is not its only destination. Blaster will be jamming enemy communications, but if a message gets through, you may have to deal with enemy reinforcements as well as the forces already stationed there."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," the general waved away the concern. "Wreck and rule."

"Meanwhile," Prowl continued as though Springer hadn't spoken, "The seekers will secure the spaceports. Silverbolt is authorized to use Superion if needed, and as such all five Aerialbots are assigned to Iacon airspace with Starscream and his trine." Both seekers nodded. "Soundwave will withdraw all ISF forces loyal to him to support Ratchet's protests, then join Blaster in the Iacon global broadcast tower. The rainmakers will ensure their protection."

"Acknowledged," Soundwave's voice was, as always, devoid of emotion, but Optimus heard the faint vibration of subharmonics he'd only ever heard from the communications officer in battle.

"Jazz and I will be in tactical bunker alpha, coordinating." The briefing finished, everyone nodding and reading the datapads on which their more specific orders were written. Then they looked to Optimus expectantly.

For an Earth minute, he froze, still unsure at what to say to this gathering of old allies and enemies. To their optics, he'd come late to their cause. But he hadn't, had he? This had always been his cause; he had just been so blinded by a desire for peace that he'd overlooked the injustices of that peace.

Well, not any longer.

"Freedom," he intoned into the expectant silence, "is the right of all sentient beings. Whether we came to that cause under Megatron's banner, cherished it as we fought Megatron's tyranny, or are newly initiated under the senate's injustice… whether we have ever said the words before today, that is what unites us." He nodded to the Decepticons in their midst. "An honor to finally be on the same side." It wasn't much of a speech, but it had been enough. Tension between the factions these leaders represented eased. They weren't just in this together, they were together. It was enough. "Until all are one."

"Until all are one," they chorused - and even Starscream, who had always derided the Autobot slogan previously, refrained from sarcasm.

Prowl stepped forward again, as Optimus stepped back, "You have your orders, and you know the signal."

Dismissed.

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Protestors made way for Optimus as he strode through the gathering forest of picket signs - another custom imported from Earth. Slogans like "An injury to one, is the concern of all" and "Justice is for everyone!" were painted sloppily in english next to neat Cybertonian glyphs proclaiming "Until all are one" and "Peace through Tyranny! Hail the **Senate!**" There was even one "We Do **NOT** Welcome Our New Robot Overlords", and those was just the ones he could see. He recognized a few faces - Cliffjumper, Hot Rod, Moonracer. He recognized a few voices; Astrotrain was still a huge mech whose voice carried across the crowd, issuing commands and shouting slogans from a completely unfamiliar chassis. One that was less obviously that of a triplechanger than he was used to seeing on the Decept-_former_ Decepticon. But most of the crowd were mechs and femmes unknown to Optimus.

Two ISF bots in temporary riot armor tried to stop Optimus as he reached the edge of the crowd. One was overpowered by a minibot - Brawn maybe - and pulled into the crowd, disappearing as Optimus leveled Megatron's - no, _his_ cannon at the other threateningly.

The mech's resistance melted and the Prime and his escort ascended the steps of the senate building unimpeded.

For every one of Optimus' long, confident strides, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, flanking their Prime to to either side, took two, as they made their way through the richly appointed corridors.

It wasn't the first time he'd been struck by the finery. Every surface of the cathedral had been polished to a mirror finish, but its majesty wasn't in it's worth in credits. By contrast, thick metal mesh carpeting lined the floors of the senate building, while glittering chandeliers of rare Praxan crystal lit the way. Murals of Autobot victories over the Decepticons had, when first painted, seemed majestic and historical. Now they were just morbid and Optimus' engine rumbled in approval when Sunstreaker dug his fingertips into one of his own commissions and ripped, leaving deep gouges in the wall and shredding the fictionalized account of Optimus' defeat of Megatron.

As they followed the map Jazz had given him earlier to the senate chambers, he tuned out a dozen of Soundwave's communications channels. Sounds of combat blended with chanting crowds and Prowl's calm voice as he directed everything from pitched battles to brewing riots across Cybertron. On another channel, Blaster spoke to the populace, explanations and impassioned speeches encouraging 'bots everywhere to rise up against the injustices of a government as old as Earth's star. Some of his words, he recognized from Starscream's manifestos, but delivered in Blaster's smooth, urgent tones they seemed more persuasive than they had Starscream's shrill, petulant voice. Still other channels echoed only with static - jammed, either by Soundwave and Blaster, or by the those still loyal to the senate. All of it washed together, and, except for a few subroutines that would pick out anything important and draw his attention back if needed, Optimus ignored all of it. None of the orders issued were for him.

The corridors were mostly empty. ISF and Defense Coalition 'bots had either abandoned their posts to join Soundwave's and Springer's forces, or had been called away to control riots and help hold the space-bridge and spaceports. Only the corpses, and the occasional _ratatattat_ of gunfire being exchanged remained - targets of Bluestreak's snipers.

Optimus laid his hand on the imported wooden door to the senate chamber just as Bruticus' roar echoed across Iacon, answered by Superion's from the space port. Less than a quarter joor ago, all eleven members of the senate had been in this room, debating Perceptor's presentation. According to Jazz's update at that time, one of his agents had succeed in sealing the room. This was the only way in or out of that room, and no one had used it yet. He hesitated a moment, then pushed the door open as the two gestalts called to each other in wordless shouts of victory that echoed like thunder, the sound following Optimus as he stepped in.

Base intimidation, but he saw senators Levitacus and Traachon cower slightly as the unfiltered roars of two very angry, if distant, gestalts echoed across the space in sync with his entrance to the room.

"Iacon Prison and spaceport secure," Prowl's voice whispered across four tactical communications bands at once. Alarms sounded on another band, nearly deafening, before quieting to something manageable - Red Alert was free. "Starscream and Superion: remain where you are and prepare for possible counter attack. Bruticus: disperse and make your way to the space bridge to assist the Wreckers." The answering responses and acknowledgements were lost amidst the tides of battle Optimus didn't have the processing power to make sense of.

Especially when he had his own part to play, here and now.

He looked up at the gathered senators. They glared down from the ring of raised podiums above his head. The layout was reminiscent of the Kaon gladiatorial arena, the senators the spectators and him the doomed entertainment below. History repeating itself, if only in images and echoes.

_So be it then_, the thought, _here and now, __**I**__ am the gladiator-rebel._ He could practically hear Megatron laughing.

Emirate Xaaron, chairmech of the senate, stood, incensed. Beside him, Mirage, senator of ruined Praxus, glared down at his former leader. "What is the meaning of this, _Prime_," the chairmech snarled.

"Freedom is the right of all sentient beings, Autobots and Decepticons alike. We have stood aside for too long while you have violated that principle unchecked, and we will stand aside no longer. We are united in this.

"Now step down peacefully, senators. There is no need for further deaths this orn." He didn't bother outlining an alternative, just hefted the cannon, while the twins behind him readied their own weapons.

Bruticus roared again into the heavy silence. "Space-bridge secure," Prowl's voice answered the gestalt over comms, unheard by the others gathered in the senatorial chambers. The senators from Vos, Tyger Pax, Polyhex and others shrank away from the threats arrayed before them. Xaaron, however, shook in rage. "You can't do this _Prime._ You answer to _us_."

With a resigned sigh of his vents, Optimus powered the cannon. He'd really hoped he would not have to use it.

_Shink!_

The sword sprouted in the chairmech's chest, piercing his spark, then slowly retracted back into Mirage's hand. "Things change, Senator," he said as the light dimmed from his victim's yellow optics and the dead frame turned grey. The spy glared at the room, then slowly, deliberately bowed to Prime, the last piece of Prowl's plan falling in place. "Until all are one."

"Until all are one,"

_"Until all are one,"_ thousands of voices answered over every open communications band, from all across Cybertron.

.

.

_Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing_

_Let the whole world know that today is a day of reckoning_

_Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong_

_Roll the stone away, let the guilty pay_

_It's Independence Day_

-_Independence Day_, Martina McBride


End file.
